


Message Sent

by mother_hearted



Category: Silent Hill
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Homophobia, Texting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-11
Updated: 2012-03-11
Packaged: 2017-11-01 18:49:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/360072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mother_hearted/pseuds/mother_hearted
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She's a full grown woman but at the sad face she emits a low groan.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Message Sent

Her phone pings when she's halfway through her tuna on rye.

_Kathleen didn't come in today. They want me to stay later tonight :(_

She's a full grown woman but at the sad face she emits a low groan. 

Eileen already knows she's staying.

_awww. well... you can't help it. i guess i can go to the gym tonight instead._

_Sorry. I was really looking forward to it too :(_

The sentiment makes her smile and feel sad all at once. Elle can't remember the last time a crush was so serious. Or if there had ever been one before this. (Probably not). It was just a movie and her thumbs are already moving across her keypad. She's gotten better at texting, faster with less mistakes. She still reads her message over before she sends it though.

_what time do you think you'll be done??_

_After 8, probably 9-ish. Late dinner for me tonight :|_

Oh. She finds herself hunching conspiratorially over her phone, thumbs frozen over her keypad. She's sitting in the middle of a food court, scared out of her mind talking to the girl she could only describe as "someone new she met" to her best friend because she didn't know how to talk about her _maybesortaokay definite_ crush and god, now she gets how Alex must feel, have felt, whatever. 

she types out her next message without breathing, reads it three time before pressing send.

_want some company??_

The next three minutes feel like an eternity until a new message arrives in her inbox. This somehow feels worse than doing this in person, maybe she should have waited.

_What kind of company o:_

Her eyes flicker everywhere before going back to her phone. She knows what she wants to say. It would take her less than thirty seconds to type it out. Except all she's doing is staring at her phone, the backlight shutting off and leaving a dim view of the screen. 

It feels like an entire butterfly garden is swarming inside her stomach and stupidly, she's assaulted by a memory. Remembering Marian Guisness and her firecracker red hair that she had parted and played with when she was eight, how it was like it crackled in the sunlight. They smashed their faces together, trying to get close enough to compare Elle’s own short blond hair and Marian had laughed, her breath hitting her in the face. Elle remembers being pulled toward her, wanting to press their faces closer together.

Then their mothers yanking them away from each other, Margaret, prim and proper and practical: _“you girls will get each other sick breathing on each other like that. it's filthy.”_

But even then, a part of her had been able to tell, that hadn't been what she was calling filthy.

She almost can't believe she's twenty three and still remembers that. She swallows around the lump in her throat, no one's here to judge her now. And even if there were, she's. She's a grown woman. It doesn't matter, none of it matters; not her fear or her nerves or what anyone in the world might say. 

Her phone beeps loudly at her to remind her of the time and her lunch break is almost over. Without wasting any more time she sends her next message, not pausing to read it over. She shuts closes her phone and makes her way back to the store. 

_dinner date company?_


End file.
